"Quarterly
Quintessence"
by c.t. gross (twilightsecho)
Stare into the
vaporous cauldron,
starless, yet for a sliver
of Charon with his
crooked grin, a
jack-o-lantern
grimace
befalling
the rimy
hollows, far below.
Where Lykens amass
though full moon's entrance,
inhumes beneath its shadowy
drape to tempt rose petalled
ice-maidens from their vestal
ladened alcazar, under a
corporate guise
of wolfish
deceit. Where,
in this sacred abeyant
grove, overrun with pendent
spears of briar thorn-crystals
twining onto a brumous trellis,
ghostly goblins girdle grisly
ghouls mid their poignant
cages of necropolis
slumber,
never to tarry
from weighted chains
affixed to chiseled stone,
only to bemoan in eerie
harmony to their
impalpable
gaoler.
But galactic
headstones never
grieve for whom they
guard in the constancy of
espresso gloamings from their
eternal, hoarfrost watchtower;
for a frozen stance of marbled
calligraphy can neither comfort
or weep once lain upon
consecrated badlands
of Death's long
embrace.
Where
blood-berry
hedgerows surround
archaic graveyards, effaced
past the dawn of Hadean aeons
from metaphysical time and tide,
etched against ethereal spoondrifts
ascending from sloshing boils in a
boundless sea, an Arcadian flummox,
in juxtaposition to its diamond dust
terrains, wafting thru a forgotten
potter's field to mold its murky
mist upon infested mounds,
erratic in its windswept
movements,
scratching the
mid-night nostrils as
if a smothering death mask,
trying in vain to abscond from
its final inky shroud. Where vampires
unfurl lifeless limbs into a sinuous fluidity
of an awakening chrysanthemum patulous, to
evenfall's mesmeric call. Yet their ravenous
craving for tepidity comes only from crimson
fire-visions, lusting through surreal temples
that course on the lip of knife-edge
between insanity and voracity,
devoid of buoyancy's elixir
and yowls from thirsts,
deprived
in its quietus repose.
Come now fiends deep within
autumn's embrace who worship an
orbiting mystic, grinning a jack-o-lantern
sneer with crooked deceit, for under
its star-reflections shall you
moondance to gothic
gaiety's tribal
drums, mounting
in delirium until
mortal death succumbs to
sacrificial slaughter near the
farside of Pluto's elliptical orbit, and
unto Tenebrion, shall the icebound wood
whisper a continuity to His creatures of the night.
© ctg 2007 All Rights Reserved
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bridge to Beyond
by c.t. gross
I breath your name inside the rain
where cascading chimes still echo
and wraps each sound in a dewy bound
till heartbeats dissolve the largos.
I write your name on the winds of fate
where tomorrows blow thru the dawn
and keeps my note in pockets of hope
till twilight embraces the yawn.
I glimpse your name in skies of crêpe
where fanciful clouds drift slowly
and forms your face with a subtle grace
till clarity holds you only.
I cry your name to the moonless wane
where clamorous seas roll tranquil
and cups my tears in a pool's revere
till hungering earth grows thankful.
I shout your name in the pouring rain
where deafening thunder echoes
and wraps each sound in the lightning's bound
till heartbeats dissolve the largos.
© ctg 2008 All Rights Reserved
Talk to Me...
Sacred is the Wind
09/07/08
You've been on my mind lately. I hope all is well with you. Have yourself a great weekend.
Robin =)
LostInEternity99
09/05/08
Hi, Cat! I haven't seen you in awhile - hope you've been well. :)

maid4you
09/05/08
onewildcat
09/05/08
passionsdaughter
09/05/08
Hugs
Nicole
angry candy
09/03/08
PoeticRaine
08/30/08
sweetnsassy
08/30/08
PoeticRaine
08/26/08
1941 willys coupe
08/22/08
MidnightPrince69
08/20/08
onewildcat
08/20/08
PoeticRaine
08/16/08
PoeticRaine
08/09/08
maid4you
08/08/08
StormSeer444
08/07/08
Prince Apollon
08/06/08
Wonderful!
passionsdaughter
08/04/08
Hugs,
Nicole
maid4you
08/01/08
MattNJake1
08/01/08
Talk to Me...